


The Deal With The Pipe

by Johmega



Series: How It Might Go [1]
Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29842875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johmega/pseuds/Johmega
Summary: In which Rand is forced (or takes the opportunity) to figure out how his newfound power works.
Series: How It Might Go [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194077
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	The Deal With The Pipe

Rand was walking down a disused road in northern Cairhien when the bandits attacked. Five of them, jumping out of the bushes on both sides, quickly surrounding him. Out of habit, he reached out to  _ saidin _ , and found nothing. Right. He was burnt out. He really needed to get over that habit. In an instant his sword was drawn and his mind was Void, but even he might fall to five well-trained men. And well-trained -or at least well coordinated- these men were. Two swords swept at him from the right and back, while from the front a man with a sword-catcher engaged. The other two stayed on each side of the road, blocking his path should he try to run. As if he would, he hadn’t had such an exciting opportunity present itself since the Last Battle. His trek south from Shayol Ghul had been void of people other than the farmhouses he’d stayed at. 

Swiping at the man on his right with Cat Dances on the Wall, he sliced through both legs. One down. The second man struck with The Boar Rushes Down the Mountain, which Rand easily deflected, and transitioned smoothly into Thistledown Floats on the Whirlwind, decapitating him. Coming out of that, he turned and examined the man with the sword-catcher. He seemed to be regretting his choice of victim. A moment later, a look of resolve passed over his face, and he stepped forward, albeit cautiously. So he was a smart one. A skilled one too, as almost a minute passed before Rand scored first blood: a shallow cut on the arm of the other man. Several more minutes passed, with an equal amount of wounds on the both of them, passed before the other man managed to twist Rands sword out of his hands and toss it off to the side of the road. A strike to the side with the flat of the blade knocked him to the ground, the sword-catcher wielder held the tip of the blade to his neck as the other two rushed to pin him down. 

“You better have loads of gold for us to give to Harvald and Gattin’s families. Thievery is the only way people like us can make a living down here; and it's easy too, now that all the guardsmen have gone off somewhere,” the man said. One of the others, a man with a long scar on the side of his face, rifled through Rand's sack, pulling out handfuls of coins from every nation this side of the Aryth Ocean. “Blood and bloody ashes, man! Where in the Light did you come from to have this kind of money,” scar-man asked. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he replied, barely able to talk past the sword at his throat. “Oh, we’ve heard some things that would make a man pale, humor us, will ya?” Rand cleared his throat, and began to explain his current state, “I’m the mind and soul of the Dragon Reborn somehow inside a body previously occupied a Forsaken -Ishamael, to be specific- and I was given all this money by an ex-Seanchan  _ damane _ who’s over four hundred years old.” As expected, he was treated to raucous laughter from all three surviving men. 

The sword-catcher man recovered first, saying “Now I was expecting a tale of some sort, but not one  _ that _ wild! Light, I don’t know anyone who’d be gullible enough to believe that!” His face became stoic, “Now, we’ll be taking this,” he said, cutting the sack off his belt.  _ Bloody ashes, I need those clothes and money _ , Rand thought to himself. Then he remembered something strange. The pipe. How did he do that, all those weeks ago? He had a theory, so he acted on it. He  _ thought _ that the bandits were suddenly flying back, and then they were. So that  _ was _ how it worked! “Oh,” he continued, “and I think I might’ve learned how to warp the world to my will during my fight with Shai’tan.” The sack had been thrown back with the sword-catcher man, so as another test, he  _ willed _ that the sack was in his hands, and it… wasn’t. Weird, maybe there was an effective range for this power he had now. “Burn you man, are you using the One Power!?” The sword-catcher man scrambled away from Rand as he approached. “Are you one of those Asha’man I keep hearing about? The channeling men that banded together and all turned to the Shadow?” He sighed, clearly none of them would believe anything that came out of his mouth now. Maybe that was for the better, he didn’t want to deal with being the Dragon Reborn again. Being important again. He grabbed the sack, and started walking away. 

To his surprise, one of the other bandits -not scar-man, a man with long black hair- rushed him, screaming something about “Gattin and Harvald”. Oh, those were the two bandits Rand had killed. He willed his hand to be as hard as steel, caught long-hair’s blade in his hands, and then it crumbled to dust with a thought. Eyes wide at seeing his weapon disappear before him, the man screamed wordlessly and sprinted down the road. Maybe he should let them have something for this trouble, he sort of owed them at this point. He tossed the sack back to the sword-catcher man, saying, “To make up for all this trouble I’ve caused you, you can have this.” The man snatched the sack and ran the same way long-hair went. Rand looked to the third man, who apparently hadn’t done anything but watch after being tossed back. Scar-man stared at him, hand just about to draw his sword again. He made his choice, and scrambled after the other two. 

Finally at peace, he turned to the other two -Gattin and Harvald, he figured- and started towards them, intending to bury them. Wait, he didn’t have a shovel. He thought of one, and a shovel appeared in his hands. It was almost sundown when he finished the burial. He didn’t know if Cairhienin had any burial rituals like the Shienarans did, so he just settled for a basic prayer. As he walked down the path, a thought crossed his mind: if he could bring a shovel into existence, couldn’t he create his own money? Rand thought of a bag of gold crowns in his hand, and it appeared. Well, that was handy. What else could he do with this power? 

He tried imagining himself on the other side of the path, and he was. So he could still Travel, in a way. Was there a range limit on this too? After warping all the way to Seanchan -the other bloody side of the world!- and back, it seemed there wasn’t. This power seemed to be very… open ended. It would be easier to figure out what he  _ couldn’t _ do than list everything he could do, it was somehow linked to what he thought. Maybe it was similar to  _ Tel’aran’rhiod _ ? He’d have to stop by Emonds Field and ask Perrin about it. With no destination in mind, he resumed his leisurely waltz down the road. 

**Author's Note:**

> Rand ain't fuckin around. Well, most of the time. 
> 
> Special thanks to Zorpisuttle yet again for beta-ing this. She was actually the one who gave me the names Gattin and Harvald lol.


End file.
